A Man in Uniform

Ahoy Lovers!

How are we all? Sufficiently sexed I hope! Speaking of sex, I think it’s time to pick up where we left off. I had just ditched Shopping27 and things could only get better after that train wreck, right?

As it turned out, I had a few more disasters of a penile nature to live through.

Let’s meet Jack, shall we?

One fine night, at a particularly camp dress up party, I was doing the rounds with Will at our local gay bar attempting to snag him a snog. It was the usual man catcher routine; Willow would point someone out and attempt to catch his eye. If unsuccessful, it would be my turn to make contact. Being the queen of subtlety, I would saunter up to said lucky man, and without any hesitation, or tact for that matter, ask “So are you straight or gay?”

Smooth right? Anyway on this particular night luck was not with us, as every man I approached was straight (or at least claimed to be.) We put this down to the fact that a very famous very female porn star was appearing in about an hour.

Undeterred, we soldiered on, downing shots every time we were unsuccessful. It may have been the shots that drove me to make my next move.

With Willow waiting in the wings, trying not to get splashed by the furiously enthusiastic lube wrestling taking place nearby, I sashayed up to a lovely young man standing on his own. Because really, what type of straight guy comes to a gay bar alone?

Turns out this one.

His name was Jack, and he was a fire fighter just out of the army.

A man in uniform who could carry me out of a burning building? Oh dear, I think my panties just disintegrated, please take me now.

Jack was not gay, a fact that I couldn’t help but rejoice in, because lets face it, all the good one’s are either gay or married these days so it was a win for women everywhere, me in particular.

Full to the brim with shots, I gave him my best lopsided smile and drawled, “Sooo, you wanna make out?”

Did he ever.

A man who could carry you out of a burning building whilst making sweet sweet love to your mouth with his tongue? A rare man indeed.

Turns out Jack was at the bar to see the aforementioned porn star, hence affirming his heterosexual statement.

We got separated pretty quickly once she arrived and started swinging her boobs about the place, but not before I got fireman Sam’s phone number.

He messaged me that night asking if I wanted to “check out his place.” But I was determined not to ruin my chance with a fire fighter with a meaningless one night stand. Plus, I was still on a seemingly fruitless search for a man for Willow, and I was not giving up that easily.

Long story short, Willow got a hook–up, I got a phone number, and we both drank our body weight in tequila, so a good night all round.

Not such a great morning after though…bad kebab, ugh.

A day went by, and although a much younger and slightly fuzzier hook up from that night began to text me, still nothing from Jack.

I began to think he was just a figment of my wildly sexualised imagination; after all, the theme of the party was wet dreams. Maybe I had conjured up my very own fantasy man for a night.

The scariest part was I kept thinking what else I could have possibly been kissing if it wasn’t him. Nobody wants to be the girl who made out with a pool cue.

As luck would have it though, just as I was preparing to head out for a date I’d organised earlier in the week, who should text me but a certain delicious fireman?

As I was crimping and curling, his name flashed up on my screen with a cheeky little “Hello, how’s your weekend going?”

Bloody good now champ.

Of course, one needs to play it cool in these situations, so I counted to eighteen (my lucky number) before slowly penning my text back. Very breezy, very laid back, just a bit of the old “Not too shabby, and you?”

Nice. Very nice.

From there we had a flirty little conversation about where the rest of that drunken night took us. Very separate directions I might add, as I finished the night heading up my very own cheer squad in a corner as Willow stuck his tongue down some lucky guys throat.

One thing led to another and just before I jumped in the car to head to my date, Jack asked me if I was working Monday night, which luckily I wasn’t, and we agreed to meet up at seven o’clock at a bar in the city. It had to be a bar with food because apparently Jack got cranky when he didn’t eat. Very typical of the male species I must say.

After my date with, I came home, congratulated myself on surviving yet another date and scoring a saucy kiss on a Sunday, and set about making dinner. By six thirty I was in my pyjamas, parked on the couch with a man size bowl of ravioli, ready for some trashy TV and an early night.

That’s when I got the message.

“Where are you?”

It was Jack.

Strange.

I had to laugh. He’d clearly done what I do so often and texted the wrong person.

“That wasn’t meant for me, was it?” I asked, adding a cheeky winky face for a bit of fun.

“Yes it was. I thought we were meeting at 7?”

Oh. Holy. Shitballs.

“I thought you said Monday?” I zipped back

“Who said anything about Monday?”

Urgh what a smartass! Especially because I realised he was right. He had asked what I was doing Monday, not if I wanted to catch up then. Stupid mixed messages!

I’ve honestly never moved so quickly in my life as I did that night. I fell into a dress, swiped on some foundation, slammed my shoes on and was in the car within twenty minutes.

Luckily for me Jack had ordered an incredibly large bowl of pasta and was busy ploughing his way through it when I arrived, so he definitely wasn’t feeling lonely.

We had a few drinks and many chats, with me regaling him of my time with Shopping27 after he asked about my recent sex life. Needless to say Jack was shocked at both Shopping27’s lack of sexual prowess and the graphic detail in which I told the story.

Don’t ask the question if you can’t handle the heat buddy.

All round though it was a fun night. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and he even bought me an ice cream after we left the bar.

This of course fueled my terribly overactive imagination again and I spent the remainder of the night picturing Jack covered in naughty naughty chocolate syrup that simply had to be licked off by yours truly.

We arranged to meet up for another date, dinner at his place. I eagerly accepted and prayed to God there was ice cream in his freezer.

If I had known just how disastrous that date was to be, you couldn’t have dragged me there with six strawberry coated strippers.

Ok physically maybe, but mentally I’d totally be resisting.

Totally.

Tune in next time to witness my continuing terrible dating streak!

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: How do you like your eggs? I prefer mine fertilised!

 

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Worst. Sex. Ever! (Part III: The Cum Shot)

Ahoy Lovers!

Are we ready for the epic and ultimately extremely unsatisfying finale? (For me that is.)

After I attempted to pierce his nipple with my teeth, Shopping27 decided it was time to switch it up again.

Good lord, what other horrors did he want to inflict on my poor bearded clam?

After some subtle questioning along the lines of “Ok fine, we can do doggy again, but are you close?” we got ourselves into position and I attempted not to clench as he pounded into me.

The guy was truly the most terrible jackrabbit I have ever slept with. I think the only words he understood were, “harder! Faster!” neither of which I uttered at any time during our… tryst. If he went any harder or faster there would have been steam rising from my flaps! As it was the old beef curtains were having a hard time maintaining their hold on the rest of my body, as Shopping27’s goal seemed to be to rip me apart.

Ooh the chafey chafey pain.

So as he banged away behind me I tried to distract myself in any way possible. I mentally prepared breakfast and lunch for the next day, wrote a quick shopping list, decided on a friend’s birthday present that I’d been mulling over for ever and finally assured myself that yes, Yemin and Saudi Arabia really did share a border. And after all that he was still going!

So much for being close! If he wasn’t done soon I was shoving a finger up his ass and hoping for the best.

Suddenly all thoughts of finger fucking flew out of my head as I heard a knocking. Not a literal knocking, I lived alone and it was 2am after all; no this was a much more internal knocking. A knocking at the back door.

Geez I had to fart!

I tried to squeeze my butt cheeks shut like I always did in times of flatulence, but you find me a girl who can squeeze her cheeks that tight whilst being body slammed into the pillows and I’ll give her a million dollars.

It’s impossible!

It was going to happen, the only question was what would happen first. Would I fluff in his face and throw off his cum concentration? Or would he finally come and I would be able to fart in peace under the covers like a lady?

Turns out it was more of a synchronised event.

Just when I couldn’t clench anymore, when I had given up all hope of keeping this badboy indoors, I heard a guttural, snort-like cry from behind me as Shopping27 finally came!

I sent up a silent prayer to the sex gods and gracefully let my fluff fly free, safe in the knowledge that guys rarely notice anything in the thirty or so seconds after they come.

Huzzah!

I jumped up and walked to the bathroom, eager for my after-sex-slash, and I could of sworn I heard a slight sizzle as I peed.

Ugh, the dude had ruined me!

I finished up and waddled back to the bedroom, feeling like John Wayne’s estranged, slightly more feminine cousin. After gingerly climbing back into bed, I glanced over to survey the situation beside me.

The motherfucker was on Plenty of Fish!

“Excuse me,” I whispered politely “but just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He glanced up from CumonmyDD’s profile just long enough to say “What? We’re not dating or anything, right?”

Oh boy, if looks could kill at that moment he and everyone in a five-mile radius would have dropped instantly.

I tried to keep my voice level as I uttered “No, no we’re not. However, you were inside me less than sixty seconds ago, so I think that deserves some level of respect.”

He looked at me blankly for a moment before I saw a flash of recognition in his eyes.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, and positioned the phone in-between us so we could both see the screen.

“That’s not what I meant!” I cried, furious that this idiot was in my bed messing up my sheets.

Speaking of messy, “Where did you put the condom?” I asked, eager not to be surprised in the morning with some soggy condom on my bedside table next to my copy of Twilight.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.”

Shopping27 flipped up the covers to reveal he was still in fact wearing said condom. I watched with disdain as he peeled it off and asked where my bin was. Then, to my horror he simply flung the condom at the bin… and missed.

Who the fuck does that shit? He hadn’t even tied the end off!

This guy was wrong on so many levels it wasn’t funny.

“Pick that up.” I ground out between my teeth.

“Nah,” he smirked “Not my house.”

I’m not usually prone to physical violence Lovers, but oh how a swift kick in the balls would have soothed me at that moment!

As I was contemplating all the delicious ways I could hurt him I felt something I did not expect.

A wandering hand heading towards my thoroughly shredded honey pot.

Oh no he did not!

The boy was actually angling for round two!

I slapped his hand away and told him in no uncertain terms that there would be no more torture tonight.

He looked at me distraught.

“Why do you think I kept the condom on?” he cried.

I gave him a withering look that finally breached the impenetrable barrier of idiocy he had erected around his potato shaped head.

“Ok fine, I guess not…” he mumbled as he pulled the covers up and adjusted his pillow.

I sighed and lay back, desperately trying to think of a reason to get him out of my house. Going to sleep next to him was bad enough; waking up anywhere near him was going to be a nightmare.

But as usual, my mind went blank, and before I could summon up some fantastical reason why he simply must leave immediately, I heard snoring coming from the lump next to me.

God, he snored like a llama with sinus infection; long, loud and snotty.

I rolled over and attempted to block out the cacophony next to me, hoping that tomorrow I would wake up to an empty bed and smooth un-chafed loins.

Hope never got anyone anywhere, did it?

As suspected, I woke up the next day, a throbbing in my special place and a tosspot next to me.

Still snoring.

I punched him in the shoulder as hard as I could to release a little anger and he sat bolt upright with a cry of pain.

“What was that for?” he asked

“I had a nightmare.” I cooed innocently, batting my eyelids at him and smiling sweetly.

Hehe suffer in your jocks douchebag.

Now it was time for him to leave.

Like now.

He wasn’t leaving.

For fucks sake, how much punishment could one punani take? Once again he was trailing his hand down my thigh to get to the now thoroughly soiled goods.

Luckily this time I had a story all worked out.

“I’m allergic to morning sex.” I blurted out.

I said it was a story Lovers, not a good story.

Shopping27 looked at me perplexed for a moment. I just shrugged and said “Yeah, always have been. Sorry. Can’t do it.”

If ever a man was close to tears it would be Shopping27 at that moment. Amazing how men turn into giant babies the moment you take sex away from them. I thought he would get up and leave. I thought he would storm off in a huff, taking his wounded pride and unused pork sword with him.

I thought wrong.

“Can you at least suck on it?” he asked, motioning towards my head towards his yogurt-slinger.

I jerked my head back and with a maniacal laugh cried “Not in a thousand years!”

Please suck on it?”

I shook my head emphatically. What a desperate loser he was turning into.

You’d really think he’d take the hint now wouldn’t you? No, he just sat there, looking most displeased as I silently begged him to leave.

“Why can’t you have morning sex?” he moaned.

I was so past caring by that point that I fed him some bullcrap story about how every night my hymen closed over and it took a hot shower and a handful of aloe vera lotion to coax it open again.

The fact that he believed me solidified the fact that he was indeed, the stupidest person I had ever met.

Shopping27 sat for a moment, clearly mystified by this strange woman who wasn’t leaping on him for sex as soon as the sun rose. Then, all of a sudden he yelled out, “God, just put some lube on your pussy and sit on my cock!”

Wow. What an invitation.

That was the final straw. I got out of bed and started shrugging clothes on as fast as possible.

“What are you doing?” he asked

“Oh you know, people to do, places to see.” I answered nonchalantly. I looked at my watch in an exaggerated motion and tutted “Ooh looks like I’m late, you’d better go.”

“You’re seriously not going to have sex with me?”

I smiled sweetly at him and said “Seriously.”

It was difficult not to literally push him out the door, but after five more minutes of awkward dressing, Shopping27 was out of my house and out of my life!

Thank the Lord!

I texted my mate Will quickly to let him know I had just had the worst sex of my life and if he wanted more explicit details he should call me.

Twenty minutes later I got a text from Shopping27.

My stomach dropped. Don’t tell me he’d forgotten something and was coming back!

But no, instead he messaged: Wow umm ok, I guess you can delete my profile. Thanks for that.

All my womanly self-righteous anger rose to the surface at that moment as I gripped my phone in an attempt to crush it. He was giving me the brush off? Me? He was the one who was awful at everything! It should have been me who was telling him to delete my profile. However I quickly realised that this meant I never had to see him again and that made me very happy indeed. I ground out a quick “No problem” message with a smiley face in hopes that it might piss him off a little and got on with my day.

A few hours later I got a call from Will and I picked up eager to divulge all the sordid details of my night. But Will wasn’t calling to hear about my sexcapades, in fact he didn’t know anything about it.

“But what about the message I sent you?” I asked, confused.

“What message?”

“The message I sent…” my voice trailed off as I realised what I had done.

Oh shit, I’d sent it to Shopping27!

No wonder he wanted me to delete him! I clapped my hand over my mouth in horror at the intense burn I had accidentally inflicted.

And then the laughter set in.

Karma really does come around doesn’t it?

So there you go Lovers, just goes to show why you should always be nice in bed. Unless they want you to be naughty of course. Just think of my story the next time you head out for some innocent no strings attached sex!

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: That suit is very becoming on you; then again, I would be too!

Worst. Sex. Ever! (Part II)

Aloha Lovers!

Let’s dive straight in!

As we drove back to get Shopping27’s car I could feel a large knot starting to form in my stomach. What was I doing? This guy was a terrible kisser, had failed miserably at fingering and his personality was none too flash either.

So why the hell was I taking him home?

The truth is I just felt I had to Lovers. I’d gone to so much trouble setting everything up and I’d been looking forward to it for so long that to back out now just seemed like such a waste.

Boy would I have backed out quick if I had known what was to come.

By the time we reached his car he had committed yet another faux paux, completely forgetting my name and pretending that “Stephanie” was a cute new nickname for me.

Very thin ice asshole.

This was my chance to ditch him, slam my foot on the accelerator and burn off into the night.

But I didn’t.

Instead I shouted out my window “Ok, follow me!” and drove slowly away so he could keep up. I needn’t have bothered, as the douchebag not only tail-gated me the whole way home, revving his engine like some toothless yokel, but sped past me twice.

So when I turned off into my street, there was quite a significant part of me that hoped he didn’t see where I had headed.

Sadly though, when I pulled into my driveway his big dumb ass was right behind me.

We headed inside and I offered Shopping27 a beer. He accepted (big surprise) and I chose quite a fancy craft beer from my stash.

Shopping27 did not appreciate this, first asking if I had any VB and then glugging back my yummy craft beer with a wince and an enormous burp.

Sigh, what a waste.

He finished his beer after a long lament on its lack of flavour and general shittyness.  By this time I was ready to do just about anything to shut him up.

I flung myself at him and aimed for his mouth. We locked lips in yet another awkward, saliva filled, dry lipped kiss.

After making our way to the bedroom, he flung me down on the bed and turned the lights off.

I smirked in the darkness. Looked like Mr Massive Cock had some body confidence issues. As it turns out he seriously did! He buried himself deep under the covers before he took a skerrick of clothing off.

This dude was seriously fucked up.

I frowned thoroughly throughout the process, but followed suit as we both disrobed.

Under the covers.

Never touching each other.

If this was his idea of foreplay it was going to be a bloody long night.

Finally we were both naked in the darkness. I blinked up at the ceiling as my eyes adjusted.

“So,” came Shopping27’s voice “are you good to go or do you want me to eat you out?”

EWWWW!

Good god boy, could you have phrased it any worse? I may not be the most ladylike of girls but that’s just icky! A little decorum please! I swallowed hard to keep down the bile that was fast rising in my throat.

I declined his offer to chow downtown and instead let my hands wander over to his supposedly massive turkey baster.

What a disappointment.

It was fine I guess, but it was definitely not big, colossal, and positively gigantic as he had described it. It was just… average really, and not even on the large side of average.

By this point however I didn’t really care what he was packing, I just wanted to get it over with and see if I could extract any pleasure from this disastrous evening.

After a few well-timed strokes I had him ready to go. There was no chance I wanted to see him again so I made double sure I baby-proofed the boy.

“Got any condoms?” I asked, reluctant to use any of my dwindling stash.

He grunted what sounded like a yes and fumbled around on the floor for his pants. Finally I heard the crinkle of foil and he handed me the condom.

“Well?” he asked impatiently.

“Well what?” I asked.

“You have to put it on me.” He said brusquely “With your mouth.”

I laughed maniacally and told him there was no chance in hell I was doing that. Shopping27 was not pleased.

Luckily, Claire did not give a shit.

I ripped open the condom and was about to discard the packet when a flash caught my eye. I held up the packet so I could see it in the moonlight. What I saw pretty much killed my sex drive instantly.

The boy had brought along a glow in the dark roughrider!

My God, what was he, twelve?

I hadn’t seen one of those babies for years! It was practically vintage!

So, he either hadn’t had sex in a very very long time, or he actually chose this bloody thing. Honestly I would have been fine with either a glow in the dark or just a simple studded number, but both?

If you need that many bells and whistles you’re obviously compensating for something.

I rolled my eyes, took a deep breath and forced the stupidly elaborate franger onto his uninspiring wang.

Then it was go time!

Shopping27 decided he wanted to start on top (yet again, what a surprise.) While he re-arranged his condom (apparently I didn’t do it right, pfft) I quickly squirted some lube onto the bearded clam. If the condom was right and it was going to be a ‘rough ride’ I wanted to make sure it was at least a wet one. There’s nothing worse than going down a water slide before they’ve turned the tap on, am I right?

Once I was lubed up and he was sufficiently wrapped, he hovered over me and without a word… smashed his goddam cock right into my poor unassuming pink taco!

“Fuck! Fuck you you stupid fucker! I kill you! I kill and your little dog too!” I screamed.

In my head of course.

All that came out was a strangled grunt slash moan with a bit of a wheeze thrown in for good measure.

I couldn’t have spoken even if I wanted too, as he was heaving himself up and down onto me so hard it was a struggle just to breathe. I had no time to attempt to relax and enjoy it, I was too busy timing my breaths. Breathe in as he retracts and lines up for another insertion, and whoosh! Breathe out as he slams into you and flops his entire body weight onto your stomach.

What a ride.
When I finally could summon up enough extra air to speak, I suggested we switch positions. He agreed instantly, much to my relief.

I jumped on top of him and was about to lower myself onto his silly little shaft when wham! He jammed me down onto it!

Sweet baby Jesus on a popsicle stick!

What was he doing?! This was my time! But no, it wasn’t to be.

Shopping27 grabbed me by the hips in a vicelike grip and began bouncing me up and down like a baby on Grandpa’s knee (no intentional Freud references there). This baby however would have suffered some serious brain damage with the vigorousness of Shopping27’s bounce.

I was so used to being in charge on top, it was the one time the girl got to set the pace and the dude just lay there and took it. Not this time.

What new devilry was this?

I hung on to his meager chest hair for dear life as he jounced me up and down, side to side, all the while keeping a bone crushingly hard grip on my hips.

There was no escape.

Time for another switch.

This time it was the dreaded doggy. I don’t usually mind a bit of canine style action, but I have quite the small honey-pot, so when a guy has that much access, care must be taken.

You can see why I was reluctant with Shopping27, yes?

I propped myself up on all fours and was about to give the word when wham! Shopping27 ploughed on in prematurely. This time was particularly bothersome as I was way to close to the wall and my head went crashing into it. This didn’t bother Shopping27 though, oh no, not at all. He just kept pumping away, hard and fast as I tried to re-arrange my face so my cheek wasn’t in constant contact with the wall.

I was unsuccessful.

Picture this, a naked guy and girl on a bed in the darkness, the moonlight streaming in through the half open window. The guy is thrusting away like a trooper, enjoying every minute of pussy destroying pleasure. Sounds like a normal sex scene right?

Let’s take a closer look at the girl’s top half.

One-hand cups her boobs, attempting to stop their insane jiggling with the real fear that one may bounce up and slap her in the face, a fear she has never experienced until this moment. However, the other hand is occupied with the wall, desperately endeavouring to not only stay on this side of it and not get thrusted through by an indecorous penis poke, but also save her cheeks, nose and forehead from being slammed into the wall with every powerful insertion.

She was failing miserably.

Position change please!

We went back to missionary and my face was finally allowed a reprieve from the wall. I prepared to initiate my breathing routine but this time around that damned height difference I had brushed away so casually came back to bite me in the ass.

Just as I went to suck in a lungful of air Shopping27 thrust forward and suddenly I had a mouth full of nipple.

Gah! Hairy. Nipple. Cutting. Off. Air!!

I tried to slurp in air around it but the hair created a sort of barrier and I was stuck with a big old mouthful of nip hair minus the sweet taste of oxygen.

The worst part is that Shopping27 thought this was all part of my sexual repertoire. He started moaning

“Oh yeah, you like that? Yeah, suck it. Suck it hard.”

Dear Lord, kill me now.

After mulling over how my family would react to death by nipple suffocation I decided against going out that way and chomped down on his man boob with a satisfying crunch.

Even more satisfying was his following yelp of pain.

Hehe, yeah suck on that fuckwit.

“Oops,” I cooed sweetly “Was that a bit too hard?”

I assume from the string of swear words that the answer was in the affirmative.

Are we all having fun yet Lovers! The big conclusion comes next! Spoiler Alert: There was no such coming for me.

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: Is my vagina crying? Or are you just sexy?